The Casey Jar
by bsloths
Summary: Derek is obsessing over something. If you think it has to do with Casey...you're right. Semiangsty oneshot from Derek's POV.


Hi! The nice feedback from my first story encouraged me to write again, so here I am. This came to me when I was re-watching Sixteen Sparkplugs, and I wondered what Derek actually did do with Marti's present. (The first three lines are from that episode.) This kind of got away from me a little bit and started to write itself, so I hope you like it. It's also kind of angsty at times, which I'm not sure I pulled off well, so please let me know what you think.

That "Submit Review" button really is a wonderful thing, so use it if you have something to say!

---Brandi

Disclaimer: I do not own Life with Derek. If I did, Daphne would be chained to a desk and forced to write nothing but scenes of Dasey, Lizwin, and Shemily fluff. Maybe I wouldn't chain her to the desk. That would be cruel. But if I owned it, there would be fluff galore!

THE CASEY JAR

"What is it?" Derek asked as Marti handed him the homemade birthday present.

"Something to put your stuff in," she answered matter-of-factly.

All he could do was thank her and smile.

The clay jar sat on his desk for weeks, collecting dust. He glanced over at it occasionally, and it gave him a warm feeling inside—his Smarti was so thoughtful.

Too bad he couldn't think of a single thing to put in it. Paper clips? Too deep. His toothbrush? Too shallow. Loose change? He preferred his wallet.

So there it sat. Until one Saturday, when Derek did something stupid.

Casey was frantically searching through the couch cushions as he came downstairs that morning. Ducking as a pillow came flying in his direction, he chuckled.

"What's up, Klutzilla?"

Casey groaned in response. "Derek, not now. I'm ten minutes late for my date with Max and I lost my earring!"

He shrugged. "So put on a new pair."

Casey stopped rustling the cushions and looked up to glare at him. "I have to wear these. Max got them for me the other day and he hasn't seen me in them yet."

Derek smirked. "Trust me, Case. He won't be looking at your earrings." _Because your shirt is too low-cut_, he added in his head.

She glared again, but this time chose not to comment back, instead giving up her search and rearranging the cushions.

As he made his way into the kitchen, he heard Casey stomp up the stairs, presumably to put on new earrings.

By the time he had finished his breakfast and returned to the living room, she had gone. Settling down into his chair and turning on the TV, Derek was prepared to spend the rest of the morning vegging out. But something shiny on the floor caught his eye.

He realized that it was Casey's missing earring, and left his chair to retrieve it.

The earring was a large red heart with a gold arrow going through it, and it was the tackiest thing Derek had ever seen. He snorted with disdain. Figures Max had no taste whatsoever. It wasn't like _he_ was good at picking out gifts or anything, but one glance told him that this was not Casey at all.

It was then that Derek made a very bad decision. Instead of putting the earring back in her jewelry box, or texting her to say he'd found it, he went upstairs and opened the jar from Marti. The earring made a satisfying clinking sound as he dropped it in, and he smiled to himself.

Derek didn't know what possessed him to do such a thing, but he did know that for the rest of the day, whenever he thought of the earring in the jar, he was happy.

Maybe it was the satisfaction of taking something away from Max, even if Max wasn't aware of it. Maybe it was the fact that this was just another prank on Casey, because he'd return the earring eventually…but he never did.

It got worse. Three days after the earring incident, Derek found a tissue Casey had used to blot her lipstick. It was just lying on top of the trash can in the bathroom, a perfect outline of her lips visible in bright pink gloss. He had no idea why, but he reached out and grabbed the tissue, folding it into quarters carefully to preserve the stain.

On his way downstairs he stopped into his room and placed the tissue in the jar.

They were heading to school, and it was Casey's turn to drive. As he climbed into the passenger seat he glanced over to see what the shade looked like on her mouth. She caught him looking and sighed in annoyance. "Come _on_, Derek."

"Come on, what?"

"Seatbelt!" she commanded, and he rolled his eyes, doing as he was told. He didn't even have the desire to respond with a witty retort, like he usually did. All he could think about was that pink lip gloss, and wonder how it tasted. He guessed it probably tasted pretty good, but he couldn't figure out if that was just because it was on Casey.

The next Saturday, after the earring had spent a full week in the jar, and the tissue had been there for three days, he made another mistake.

She had a date with Max that night, and he stood in the doorway watching her brush her hair. He walked into her room before she could realize that's what he'd been doing, and she sighed.

"What _is_ it, Derek? I'm leaving in a second."

He cleared his throat and asked in what he hoped was a casual manner, "Did you ever find that earring from Max?"

She gave him a strange look. "No, but what made you think of that?"

"I don't know. It's just…did he notice you weren't wearing them?"

Casey shook her head. "No, he didn't. But it doesn't matter." She looked a little unhappy at this point, and it took all of Derek's willpower not to grab her hand and tell her to _please, please, break up with Max_.

"Well…okay," he choked out, and went back to his room, leaving Casey thoroughly confused.

He knew she was thinking about how weird that conversation had been, but he couldn't help it. She just didn't see how wrong Max was for her, and he liked to point it out at every opportunity. Just for her sake, so she wouldn't stay with such a loser. It had nothing to do with his feelings. Nothing at all.

_You just keep telling yourself that_, Derek thought.

Yeah, he didn't believe it either.

Casey left for her date, and Derek reentered her room. He had seen something on the corner of her desk—a crumpled up piece of paper. He smoothed it out and read the neat penmanship:

_Dear Dad,_

_How are you? How's New York? I'm great. THIS SOUNDS STUPID_

Derek reread it, wondering why she had stopped mid-letter and criticized herself instead. He thought that sounded like a fine beginning for a letter to someone she barely saw.

His heart went out to her; he knew how hard it was for Casey to see her dad so infrequently. He figured she had started countless letters like this, ending each one annoyed with herself instead of at the person who deserved her anger—her dad.

So he took the letter. He balled it back up in his fist and dropped it into the jar.

He knew it was silly. It was wrong, and stupid, and weird. But he liked knowing that those things were in there; they were like some sort of security blanket. He also liked knowing that he had found the perfect use for Marti's gift.

Derek had representations of Casey's heart, body, and mind…in a jar on his desk.

If only he could have the real thing.


End file.
